Edge of Darkness
by CNJ
Summary: When tragedy strikes two of the original BSC at the age of 39, they both must find the strength & courage to go on, not only for themselves, but their families as well. Contains strong language & controversial issues. Completed!
1. February 2023, Part 1

_Disclaimer_: Fans of the BSC probably know this, but just want to make clear that none of the _Baby-Sitters' Club_ characters belong to me; they all are the creation of Ann Martin, not the current author. And in addition, the character Mona Vaughn belongs to author Betsy Haynes, not the current author. Now their kids and some of the spouses and some of their other friends are my creation and have been copyrighted.

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**1: February 2023, Part 1:**

**Mary Anne:**

The alarm buzzed loudly. I slowly opened my eyes, willing the noise to just go away and let me sleep some more. But I couldn't go back to sleep because it was Monday morning and time for Owen and me to wake up, make sure our kids, Tamara and Alma were up and to get ready for work.

I slid out of bed and walked across the room and turned it off. By then, my husband, Owen Spiser had awakened and reached over toward my side.

Seeing our overnight bags lined up by the dresser made us both remember that today we had a flight to catch to Atlanta, Georgia for our teachers' international conference.

Owen and I are both high school teachers and live just outside of New York City, in a suburb called Hudson Ridge. I'm now thirty-nine and Owen is forty-four.

"We gotta get ready," I yawned. Neither Owen or I are morning people, which is why we set two alarms way across the room. Owen nodded and got up, his blue eyes still bleary.

"We have 'till ten-thirty to catch that plane..." Owen mumbled as he headed toward the bathroom.

I put on my glasses, ran a comb through my dark, straight hair and went down the hall to check if my girls were awake. They weren't, but it was still early, around six-thirty. I usually let them sleep until seven, when they have to get ready for school.

Alma's four and in pre-school and Tamara is nine and in the fourth grade. Owen and I would be at the teachers' conference until Friday, then heading back here on Saturday.

While we were gone, I'd be paying my friend, Mona Vaughn to watch them. Mona is a veterinarian and lives just down the street from me. She has a daughter, Zara, who's Alma's age and the two of them are good friends.

I got dressed, then headed down to the kitchen to dig up something edible for breakfast. There was more snow from earlier this week, being late February.

Looking in the pantry, I saw oreos, cereal, egg noodles, granola bars. I set out plates and glasses for all of us. By the time I got out of the shower, Tamara and Alma were up and getting dressed.

"Have your overnight stuff packed?" I asked them.

"Yeah..." Tamara pointed at their overnight bags by the hallway. We headed downstairs together and Owen was there, making bagels. We sat down to eat.

"Can I have a granola?" Alma asked.

"I guess so," I nodded and she got up to get one from the pantry. Actually, she got several and sat and scarfed them down. As we ate, Owen turned on the radio and we listened to the weather report. The anchor called for more snow starting on Friday.

"Hey, maybe we'll be off school Friday!" Tam crowed as we stacked the dishes in the dishwasher.

After the rush to brush teeth, I told the girls to head straight over the Mona's after school. Owen and I hugged them before we headed out the door. By that time, our baby-sitter had arrived.

"Byyyyee..." we called.

"Don't get airsick," Alma called.

"We won't," I promised. Owen and I laughed as we headed toward the car to head toward Kennedy Airport.

* * *

"Hi, Mona..." I said into my cell phone. "Owen and I are at the airport now. We're catching a flight to Atlanta in a half hour."

"Enjoy yourselves you two." Mona told me. She was already at work in her vet's office. "And don't worry about the girls. I'll be sure they're all right here. Bye."

"Bye." I clicked the phone closed. Owen and I sat on two green connected chairs until our flight was called.

It claimed half an hour, but it really took forty-five minutes to be called. Once the flight was called, we edged onto the shuttle, bit by bit.

It was a three-minute ride to the actual plane and once we got on, we let out our breaths, glad to be able to sit down again. I was still fighting the early-morning sleepiness.

I lay back and let my mind wander and was almost in a half-sleep. Mona's been one of my best friends since eleventh grade when she joined the Baby-Sitters' Club.

The Baby-Sitters' Club, the legacy of Stoneybrook, Connecticut made up of nine friends of mine and me...sounds like a long-ago epic out of a book? Actually, it wasn't so long ago, although it often feels like it.

I grew up in Stoneybrook, Connecticut and so did two of my friends, Kristy Thomas and Claudia Kishi. We were best friends since nursery school on and are still close friends today, even though they both live in Two Skies, Minnesota now.

They're both businesswomen, Kristy specializing in products for left-handers and Claudia in commercial art and advertising. They're both creative go-getters, so it's not surprising. Claudia's married an has three daughters; Kristy's divorced and has five kids.

I smiled softly to myself as I remembered always knowing somehow that Kristy would have a large family. Kristy was the one who came up with the idea of forming the Baby-Sitters' Club or BSC for short way back in seventh grade when we were kids at Stoneybrook Middle School.

By then Stacey McGill, who'd just moved from New York City had joined us and the four of us started the club to offer parents just one number to reach and get several experienced baby-sitters. Stacey is now an engineer in Vermont and has two kids.

All of us love kids and enjoyed baby-sitting. The mini-business grew and we had several meetings a week My stepsister Dawn joined us in the middle of seventh grade.

In eighth grade, several more members joined us, including Abby Stevenson, Jessi Ramsey, and Mallory Pike. Later on in eleventh grade, Mona joined us and so did Abby's twin sister, Anna.

Our club lasted all through high school much to our surprise. Senior year came and we wanted the club to continue, but knew we'd be going off to different colleges, so we decided to train our former charges, who were in middle school, to take over the club once we left for college. And so the BSC the Next Generation was born. Now the BSC is in its sixth generation back in Stoneybrook and still going strong.

* * *

**Stacey:**

"Have a great day, kids, " I called to my two kids as I headed out the door that cold February morning in mid-week after the baby-sitter had arrived.

We had gotten a snowstorm here in Vermont last night and Larry, who's seven and Syrie, who's five were off school. I wasn't off work as an engineer, so I was on my way out the door to catch the railway into the small city of Vladboro.

Thank heavens the main road had been cleared and that the rail was running on time.

In some ways, this train reminds me of the subway in New York City where I grew up. My mind traveled a little back to when I used to live in NYC before my parents split up when I was in seventh grade, then my mom and I moved to the large town of Stoneybrook, Connecticut where I'd met my friends in the BSC and finished growing up there.

My mom and I are still close today and we e-mail and talk on the phone several times a week. Sadly, Dad had died shortly before I married Jon Metrick when I was thirty.

I couldn't help thinking what an odd irony it is that now Jon and I are splitting up and our divorce will be final in a few months. Too many different values and I'd suspected that Jon had been drinking and gambling as well.

But I'm grateful for my two wonderful kids. People tell me that Larry looks a lot like me and I guess they're right. Both kids have honey-colored hair like me and Larry has my shade of eyes, dark cobalt blue. Syrie has her dad's green-gray eyes.

I was lucky to be able to have them in a regular birthing center instead of a hospital. It was a feat actually, since I'm diabetic and diabetic pregnant women have to be monitored more closely. They were both born very large, but healthy.

I smiled softly as I pulled out my insulin patch and put it on my abdomen. Gone are the days when diabetics had to poke a needle into themselves to get their insulin way back in the twentieth century and in fact until about ten years ago. Now all I have to do is put the patch in place once a day for ten minutes and let the insulin absorb into me and do the work. The wonders of technology.

Getting to work, I smiled at my co-worker, Jean Searles, who had a desert screensaver on her laptop. It reminded me of Mary Anne Spiser's stepsister Dawn Schafer, who lives out in Arizona. She used to be part of our BSC back in high school and went to Arizona for college since she loves the desert climate. She's an archeologist and has twins, a son, Ben, and a daughter, Sierra.

I sat at my desk and picked up the old picture of all of us in the BSC way back the summer after we graduated from eighth grade...well the senior BSC. Mallory and Jessi, who'd been our junior officers, are two years younger than the rest of us.

It was that summer than we'd taken the cross-country trip across the USA in RV's. It had been a fun, exciting trip. It had also been a prelude to our high school years.

Boy, did we have our ups and downs in high school. Getting used to being freshman, then in tenth grade, dealing with an awful IN clique who picked on other kids, including the BSC. I still get a clammy, creepy feeling remembering how the IN clique dominated Stoneybrook High. Finally in eleventh grade, triumphing over the IN clique with a movement that Abby Stevenson started, Operation Today's Good Youth.

We'd deluged the editors of northeastern newspapers with letters on how the media back in the 1990's had a negative portrayal of youth in our time and blaming moms. Back then, some people still considered it unacceptable for a woman to work if she had kids!

That movement weakened the IN clique, then by the end of junior year, kids from the IN clique had gotten into trouble and they broke up. Senior year had been the anti-climax so to speak of our high school years.

Putting the picture down, I opened a drawer and pulled out another picture, one of Mom and me arm-in-arm and me holding my valedictorian award. Wow. I remembered how I couldn't believe it at first, then it had slowly sunk in.

Putting the picture away and starting my research of the day, I made a mental note to e-mail my friends tonight. Vaguely, I remembered Mary Anne telling me about a teachers' conference she and Owen was headed to in Atlanta at the end of this month. I wondered if they were there now.

* * *

"Stacey...Stacey..." Lini Wang's voice came into the lab later that afternoon. "It's the phone...urgent." I raced over and it was my neighbor and a friend, Valerie Goldboro.

"It's your son, Larry," Val was panting. "I think you'd better get here as fast as you can."

"What happened!" My breath caught. "Is he all right?"

"I...don't know..." Val sounded a little faint. "The kids were ice-skating by the park..." She hesitated.

"My God, tell me what's going on," A very bad feeling was coming over me and I felt a bit shaky. "Please..."

"He disappeared down a ledge..." Val gasped some and I realized that I had to get home fast.

* * *

I made it home in record time and Valerie, shaken and pale, led me to the edge of the pond where part of the ice had melted into a huge hole which dipped downward into a steep cliff.

"Where's Syrie?" I asked.

"She's inside with Pia," Val told me. I headed out toward the lake. "Stacey, no, it's dangerous; the rescue crew is on the way!"

I kept going, my heart hammering. If there was a way to get my son out, I'd do it. Sliding my way cautiously down to icy pond, I edged toward the hole.

"Stacey..." Val's voice was faint above the whoosh of the melting side of the cliff.

Clinging to a low branch, I peered down and saw a flash of yellow. Larry's jacket! But just as quickly, it floated away.

The next few hours are hazy in my mind, but I remember the branch giving way and me being at the edge of the cliff, the icy water washing over me. My hands began to hurt after clinging to that thick branch, which was dangerously close to breaking.

"Larry!" I screamed into the blue-gray icy churning chaos below me. The yellow splotch flashed again and I screamed again, "LAARRRR-RRR-Y!" But the yellow was gone again.

Desperately, I reached with my free hand, but the branch cracked again and I was plunged deeper into the waves and very close to falling down that cliff.

At the last minute, I heaved my body up the end of the branch just as one end broke off into the cliff. I hung there on my stomach in terror. A stark, numb dread overwhelmed me as I realized that I was helpless to save my son. I couldn't see the yellow anywhere now. It could have been an hour; it could have been just a half hour, but I hung on.

"There're almost there; hang on, Stace..." I heard Val call. In a daze, I heard voices among the trees and felt something on the branch.

"N-no, don't move the branch..." I wailed, beginning to shake, fresh terror washing over me at the thought of losing my grip and plunging into the cliff. "Please!"

Closing my eyes, I waited for the fall, waited for maybe my own death...a strong pair of arms grabbed my waist and someone called, "We got her!" A huge woman was wrapped around me and gripping me in her arms and we were both pulled up from the branch and onto the dry ground.

"She's all right..." someone murmured as I fell back onto the ground, an awful dizziness rushing over me.

"My son isn't..." I wailed. "Oh, God, Oh, God, somebody please help my son..." I was crying now and the woman who'd pulled me from the tree whispered soothing words, I don't know what. It was a blur in my mind, the rest of that nightmarish afternoon. Thank the all the skies that I blacked out then.


	2. February 2023, Part 2

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**2: February 2023, Part 2**

**Mona:**

The kids whooped when school was closed Friday and went back to bed. I myself was headed out to the vet's office up the street for an hour or so.

There weren't any new pet patients today, just a few that needed follow-up checkups and all. I wondered how Mary Anne and Owen were doing down in Georgia. They're coming back tomorrow.

I smiled softly as I looked at a picture from their wedding I had on my desk. I'd been the matron of honor and we'd both worn light blue. It had been a really beautiful wedding.

Mary Anne had been twenty-nine and three months pregnant with Tamara. They'd had a May wedding outdoors, a simple, but wonderful ceremony. They'd also combined two syllables of their last names to make Spiser out of Spier (Mary Anne's last name) and Geiser.

I smiled even more widely as I remembered in amusement that right before the ceremony, Mary Anne had been so nervous that her throat had gone dry and she'd gotten a terrific attack of the gulps. She hadn't been able to stop swallowing until she'd had a drink of water.

I'd known her and the rest of the BSC since eleventh grade. They'd been the first people I'd told that I was gay, since in the late twentieth century, being gay was considered a big deal and back then, there were a lot of people who thought it was this awful thing that had to be kept secret. Boy, am I glad we're out of those dark ages, I thought.

Of course, with the BSC, it didn't change a thing. Actually, Mary Anne was the very first person I'd told.

I remembered back when we lived in Stoneybrook and it was around March of eleventh grade. Mary Anne and I had been shooting some pool in this big teen hangout place called Aster and Dusker's.

We'd gotten to talking about love and sex and Mary Anne had told me that she'd gone out with this guy named Lester, was it? Or had it been a Logan...or a Larry? Well, anyway, Mary Anne had come close to losing her virginity with this guy in ninth grade, but had decided they weren't ready for sex. They'd broken up in April of ninth grade due to other, completely unrelated reasons.

It was March of eleventh grade when I'd slowly come out. Mary Anne had been a little surprised, but not shocked or anything. We kept playing pool, then went to get sodas.

We'd gone to college together at Staten U. in New York City and been roommates. In our senior year of undergraduate school and throughout graduate school, we'd rented a house with a couple, Greta and Wyser.

It had been great, just the four of us women sharing a house just a few miles away from the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Greta and Wyser are still good friends with Mary Anne and me. In fact, they live just up the block here in Hudson Ridge.

Kristy had also gone to college near us, at Fellowdean. She married a Carl Bineware when she was around twenty-four, the same year Claudia got married. Shortly after that was when Kristy moved to Minnesota.

Four years ago, Greta and Wyser got married and adopted a little girl, Vitra. Vitra's five and often plays with Alma and Zara.

It looked like more snow outside, so I closed up for the day and headed home.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

The last day of the conference went by quickly. In the past week, Owen and I had met teachers from all over the world here in Atlanta. Atlanta, Georgia still made me a bit dizzy.

I've been to the west coast, all over the Northeast and to Canada, Kuwait, and Germany, but this was my first time ever in the Southeast States.

Georgia's very warm, this week's in the sixties and there's no snow of course. Some of the trees are even budding...in February.

I wondered if we'd gotten more snow in New York. After the last meeting, I called the girls on my cell phone.

"Hiii, Mommy!" Alma picked up.

"Hi, darling, how's everything?" I asked.

"Good. We're off school today because of snow. Zara, Vitra, and made a snow fort."

"Oh, how nice," I smiled. "I'll have to see it when I get home. Is Tam around?"

"Yeah..." Tam picked up. "Hi, Mom. How's the conference going? Boring or interesting?"

"Actually, honey, it's interesting," I told her. "I'm meeting teachers from all over the world."

We talked a while more before Tam groaned and told either Alma or Zara to "quit licking the last of the chocolate sauce off the pan..."

Owen talked to the girls some too, then we hung up and went back to mingle with the other teachers. Food had been put out and we took some and munched.

"Hey, they had the right idea bringing different foods from all over," Owen grinned. I nodded and bit into a kabob. For the next hour or so, all of us educators mingled. I even remembered enough German from my high school years and visiting Germany to carry on a conversation with teachers from Germany.

"Ohhh, God, maybe we need a little Yiddish there," Owen laughed. He also knew a smattering of German. We all ended up laughing. Nowadays, German and Yiddish, two very similar languages are mixed in together. It was like a small party, the bond between all of us being that we'd made educating the new generation our career.

* * *

I hit the snooze on the alarm when it went off the next morning. I suspect I hit it several times before finally waking up.

Owen and I hadn't gotten back until around eleven last night. We didn't have to catch the flight back to New York until around two. Still, we had to pack some things.

It was around ten-thirty when we got up. We packed quickly and headed down to grab a bite for breakfast...or maybe lunch. After lunch, we headed back to get our things and head to the airport.

I almost had my small compact laptop in my suitcase when I tripped over the nightstand and the back fell off the computer with a clatter. The batteries rolled out.

"Ohhhh...shit..." I muttered.

"Are you all right?" Owen asked.

"Yeah..." I muttered, plopping down and retrieving the batteries and putting the back on the laptop. I put it in my suitcase without further mishap. We then checked around to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything, then headed to the airport. In the cab, the cell phone rang with a _brrrippp_.

"Hello?" I picked it up.

"Oh, Mary Anne, I'm so glad I got a hold of you!" Mona gasped.

"Why?" My heart started to pound. "Is everything all right?" I hoped nothing had happened with any of the girls.

"Kristy just called me...it's Stacey...her son...Larry was in an accident."

"Oh...God..." I gasped and closed my eyes. "Oh, my God..." This was just about as bad. I felt tears well in my eyes. Owen peered over at me, concerned. Poor Stacey! "H-how's Stacey holding up?" I quavered.

"I...don't know, but they don't think Larry made it...something about falling through ice," Mona went on.

"Listen, I'm on my way to the airport now," I took a breath. "Tell Stacey to hang in there...all of us BSC will be there for her. I should be home in a few hours." Just then the call waiting on Mona's phone sounded and we had to hang up.

"What's..." Owen's eyes grew wider with concern and he stroked me.

"It's Stacey's son...something's really happened," I felt a flash of fear and fought back a fresh wave of tears as we arrived at the airport. Thanking the cab driver, we got our luggage and headed to our flight. Thank goodness there weren't any delays this time. I really felt an urgent need to get home as soon as possible.


	3. February 2023, Part 3

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**3: February 2023, Part 3**

**Mary Anne:**

As the plane took off from Atlanta, Owen dozed off and I pulled out my laptop and did a little writing for an article for _Scholastic Monthly_.

Besides teaching, I write occasional articles for various magazines. Some of my friends have suggested that I write a book. I've thought about that, but haven't decided what kind of book it would be.

I smiled softly as I remembered that Mallory is an author of teen books. I see her books at Borders' or Barnes and Noble often.

She recently started a teen series on a teenage writers' club. One of the characters is based on Jessi, who's now a ballet dancer.

Just as we were flying over Virginia, I had to pee, so I saved what I'd written, closed my laptop, put it away and headed to the bathroom in the back.

I don't know when I sensed something was wrong. As I wiped myself and flushed the toilet, I felt something jolt a little. I leaned on the wall, wondering if we were flying through a storm or something. In the mirror, I saw that my brown eyes were wide and worried.

"All right, Mary Anne, don't panic..." I told my reflection. I smoothed my bangs down and ran my fingers through my shoulder-length straight dark hair.

I heard the loudspeaker telling everyone to be seated and put on their seatbelts. My stomach tightened and I shot out of the tiny bathroom and to my seat.

The cabin seemed to be rolling back and forth. My hands shook as I sat back and put on my seatbelt. Our fellow passengers had mostly fallen silent, but a few were frantically whispering back and forth.

"Wh-what's going on?" I asked Owen, who was now awake and putting on his seatbelt.

"I don't know..." he whispered. "I think it's some kind of mechanical trouble."

Two flight attendants booked up the aisle, making sure all seatbelts were on, then disappeared into the front. Something about the way they moved told me something was very wrong.

I saw it was growing dark outside and the clouds seemed unusually close. I was aware of a low blowing sound that rose into a whistling that grew progressively louder.

Owen and I kept our eyes on the seat belt light flashing like a warning beacon. My heart started to pound. Outside, the whistling progressed to a low howl. The lights started to flicker, then dim to an eerie yellow.

"We are experiencing an emergency breakdown..." a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Place the oxygen masks over your faces and lean forward..."

I broke out into a cold sweat as Owen and I put on our masks. Then we clung to each other for life as screams erupted all around us.

The plane shuddered violently and we heard a loud sound between a crackle and a crash, and several thuds. A few people panicked and shot out of their seats. "_SIT DOWWN!_" someone yelled.

"We're gonna all die!" someone else screamed.

Owen and I huddled close. Owen had his eyes closed, but I could picture my kids with my eyes open. Oh, my poor girls! We were dying and they'd be...Dawn would take them, but Owen and I would never see them grow up...no, no...oh, God!

We were lurching and tossing and the crashes combined with the screaming got louder and louder until my ears began to hurt. I couldn't scream; I couldn't cry; I was numb with stark terror and I knew Owen was too.

He leaned hard into me and whispered, "I just love you Mary Anne, my wife..." 

I love you, Owen, _my darling husband_...I could barely mouth out. My voice wasn't working.

The awful yellow haze began to blur and faded into blackness...I was jerked forward painfully as there was a final _WHOOOSH_ and an awful thud.

Suddenly everything, everything was absolutely still. Then screaming started again.

I struggled to my feet and saw nothing but a hazy gray blur. _Owen!_ I silently screamed my lips moving, but no sound coming out.

Black shapes around me moved in a frenzy as passengers moved to get out of the plane. I groped until I found Owen still on his seat, but slumped over.

"Fire..." someone cried.

Yes, I saw wispy black smoke billowing from the front and knew I had to get Owen out. I struggled to lift my husband as a cold sick feeling settled in my stomach. Slowly, slowly stumbling several times, I dragged him up the aisle, my breathing ragged, a sharp pain shooting down my neck. I ignored it and kept pulling. Please, please let there be an exit.

I groped to where people were moving toward. Once someone, probably panicked, knocked me down and when I sat up, I saw the hazy dark blue of sky. Come on, we're almost there! I silently told myself and Owen.

I tumbled out the doorway and he and I both fell a few feet and landed in snow. I lay there, hearing more screaming, but part of it was sirens.

"Owen..." I whispered. "Can you hear me?" I looked down and saw my husband's face. It was completely oddly peaceful...no expression. "Ohhh...NO, Owen..._PLEASE!_" my voice came out in a high wail. "You can't be..." My stomach contracted painfully.

No nightmare. It's real. My husband, Owen is dead, and there are still people trapped in that plane. I could see flames shooting out, spreading faster. With several others, I held the door open, numb and mute, then dragged other bodies out, wondering if they were dead or alive.

* * *

"Ms. Spiser?" Dr. Ralin looked down at me. "I'm sorry...but...your husband is gone."

I nodded. My eyes stung with tears. They fell when I got to the hospital and identified Owen Spiser. The awful finality of his death crashed into me and I sobbed and sobbed until my chest hurt.

My legs went weak and slightly spastic and the next thing I knew, Dr. Ralin had to grab me to keep me from falling. She and a nurse each put an arm around me and led me down to hall.

As I leaned on them, I realized how much my stomach hurt. It was more than my stomach; it was just above my stomach. I also had shooting pains in my neck and could hardly lift my right arm. Dr. Ralin lay me down and examined me, feeling my rib area, then my neck.

"It looks like whiplash," the nurse whispered.

"I'd better x-ray her for broken ribs too," Dr Ralin nodded. "...badly bruised..." I could hear their voices jumble together as I drifted off, whether in a faint or sleep I don't know. I groggily wondered how many other crash victims had been brought here to this hospital.

* * *

**Mona:**

I was tense as I watched the news about the plane crash in Virginia. I was hoping against hope that it wasn't the one Mary Anne and Owen were on. It was a flight from Atlanta to Kennedy Airport in New York City. The 2:30 flight that Mary Anne said she'd catch on the way back.

Thank the planets Tam and Alma were outside in the snow with Zara and another friend Tam's age, Rhoda. What would I tell them if Mary Anne and Owen _HAD_ been on that flight and they hadn't...it was almost too scary to think about.

Mary Anne had made out a will that if anything should happen to Owen and her, I'd be the one to take them. Much as I love Mary Anne's daughters, I didn't want to think of something like that happening as a result of tragedy.

I called Kristy and Dawn on two lines. They'd seen the news about the plane crash. And this was on top of what was happening with Stacey now with her son being killed.

It was a weird, awful afternoon and everything seemed unreal. A gut feeling told me that Mary Anne had been in that plane. I just hoped they'd be all right. Yes, frighteningly, the newscaster said that it was flight 209, the very flight Mary Anne and Owen were on that had crashed in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia; she also announced that there _had_ been some survivors.

* * *

**Stacey:**

"We're on our way," Kristy and Claudia told me over the phone that dark night that my son died. "We've called our other friends and we're all going to be there for you." They also told me that they'd contacted Abby and Anna Stevenson in New Jersey and they were also on their way.

"Thank...you," I whispered. I was unusually cold and Syrie leaned into me. After I hung up, we both wept silently. I don't know how long we sat like that. I could have been minutes; it could have been hours. Nothing seemed real, even the kitchen looked like a museum display. I barely even remembered that last few hours since I'd identified my son's body, then headed home. My ears were ringing, then the ringing got louder.

"Want me to get the door?" Syrie whispered.

"The door..." I sat up and through my trance, realized that part of the ringing was the doorbell. "Oh. yes, we should..." we got up and peered out through the peephole. It was Mom. I opened the door and Mom, Syrie and I hugged. She was a big relief and I collapsed into her, fresh tears coming. Her arms were just about the only things that felt real to me and she actually lifted me up and carried me to the living room couch, then pulled the afghan over me.

"I can't believe L-Larry's gone..." I wept.

"Me either..." Mom rasped, stroking me through the thick afghan. She reached out and put an arm around Syrie as well. The three of us clung to each other like life rafts in this awful storm.

* * *

**Mona:**

I'd been on and off the phone with Dawn in Arizona, then with Kristy and Claudia, who were flying to Vermont to be with Stacey.

All of us crossed our fingers for Mary Anne and Owen. By then, Tamara and Alma knew what was going on and their eyes were wide and worried. We'd tried eating dinner without much success.

Tam and Alma have the same big brown eyes as their mom. Alma has her mom's facial features while Tamara has Owen's features.

How I wished I could promise them their parents were going to be all right...but I couldn't. The call from the airline official came at around midnight.

Mary Anne had survived and was at the Blue Ridge hospital with mild injuries, but Owen was dead. Right away I called her stepsister back.

Kristy and Claudia were on their flight, so I wouldn't be able to reach them until they landed. So were Abby and Anna.

"I'm on my way," Dawn told me as soon as I gave her the news. "Oh, God, Stacey and Mary Anne are both really going to need us." Oh, Owen! I thought. I can't believe you're gone! I couldn't believe Mary Anne was now widowed. I'd be telling her girls that their dad had just died. Oh, poor Mary Anne! Poor Tam and Alma!

It wasn't until the next day, noon, that I was able to hear from Mary Anne. Thank goodness she was being released from the hospital now and was on her way home. Her voice sounded very thin with an edge of terror.

"How's Stacey holding up?" she asked.

"Hard to say," I told her. "Her mom, Kristy and Claudia are there and Abby and Anna are on their way there."

"Good...she needs support..."

"So do you, Mary Anne," I reassured her. "We're all going to be there for you and your girls too."

"I j-just...want to hold my girls..." Mary Anne made small choking noises as she sobbed. "Do they know about..."

"Yes, I told them. They know you're all right. And Dawn is on her way here too and is picking you up. Hang on, Mary Anne, we're going to get you through this..." I said a few more reassuring things to her.

I'd notified Greta and Wyser as to what had happened as well. She and several other survivors would be on a special shuttle plane that would get here in an hour.

But I knew Mary Anne was terrified. I knew all of us had to be there for her. Another BSC re-union is on the way, but for tragic reasons, I realized ironically. Our last BSC re-union had been last August.


	4. Late FebruaryEarly March 2023

Hey, thanks for the reviews, you all! I'm so glad you like this story! Here's more; some of the next few chapters will be from nine-year-old Tamara's point of view.

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**4: Late February/Early March 2023**

**Tamara:**

It was Mona who went to pick up Mary Anne from the airport and brought her back. Aunt Dawn had flown up from Arizona to be with us with her twins, Ben and Sierra.

They're seven and often we get together for holidays. Aunt Dawn had them through artificial insemination just like Mona had Zara. Our aunt and cousins stayed at our house and offered support for Alma and me. Our world had seemed unreal since we got the news about Dad. It was afternoon when Mona got back with Mom.

"Mary Anne..." Aunt Dawn whispered.

"Mommy!" Alma screamed. She got up and started to run over to Mom, but slowed, then slowly reached out.

"Oh, Mom..." I gasped and went over to her.

She reached out and hugged us tightly. Mom looked just awful. Her shadowed eyes were so, so troubled. I could only imagine what she was feeling inside.

Seeing Mom brought in the searing reality that my sister and I had lost our father and Mom had lost her husband. Aunt Dawn, our cousins, and Mona came over and all of us hugged and wept.

"Mommy..." Alma's voice came out in a high wail. "Daddy died...you're sad..."

"Oh, Mom..." I found it hard to catch my breath and my stomach felt like it was being squeezed.

"Oh, T-Tam...Alma..." Mom keened between sobs, her breathing ragged and rapid. I could feel the bandages covering her two cracked ribs and winced. I hoped Mom wasn't in physical pain too. It was bad enough that she had to deal with a lot of emotional pain.

* * *

**Mona:**

Stacey's son Larry was being buried the day before Owen, so all of us headed up to Vermont. By then Stacey had heard about Mary Anne. And the rest of the BSC had arrived.

"Is Mary Anne...?" Kristy whispered, looking over at her car pulling up.

"She's...holding up as well as she can, considering what she's been through," I whispered back "Dr. Louis gave her some painkillers and something to hold food down for her stomach."

Mary Anne and Stacey both burst into tears once they saw each other and hugged the hardest, which made the rest of us tearful. Once again, all the of BSC were together...but for sad reasons.

All of us sat and Mary Anne and Stacey held hands. Kristy held Stacey's other hand and Dawn held Mary Anne's other. It got closer to the time of the burial, so we got ready to go.

Syrie stayed close to her mom, her face pale. Jon Metrick, Stacey's ex-husband met us there, his face wan and tight.

They were in the process of splitting up, but both of them had put aside any feelings from the divorce to mourn their son together. This was so chilling, I thought as I looked around at the blue late February sky and the grayish ground. And right after this, we'd be heading back to New York for Owen's funeral.

* * *

**Tamara:**

Dad's body was brought back to be buried by the time we got back to New York. Mom was almost mute, but when she spoke, it was a raspy whisper.

I helped Alma get ready for Dad's funeral, which was being held in the funeral home. We're Atheists, so there would be no praying ceremony, just a secular memorial service.

Alma, Aunt Dawn, Mona, and I took food in to Mom, who was up, but slumped on the bed, her eyes puffy and her face ashen and a bit bloated. My eyes welled up seeing her in so much pain.

"Are you going to be...?" I asked, then my voice broke and I started crying.

That made Mom and Alma start crying again too. I put the tray down and we hugged. Mom shakily took her pain pill, then tried to eat. She managed a few mouthfuls of hash browns. Aunt Dawn stroked her.

"We...better say goodbye to Owen..." Mom got out in a short sob. I held onto her hand. "This is going to be...hard for all of us...b-but it has to be done..."

I always knew my mother was a strong woman and now I was seeing it. She was shattered and heartbroken, but seemed to lead the rest of us out of the house and along with the rest of the BSC, to the burial of her beloved husband.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

I was in pain over losing Owen and my heart ached for my girls, but I could just imagine what Stacey and Syrie must be going through. Throughout Larry's funeral, then a day later, my own husband's funeral, Stacey and I clung to each other and our kids clung to us. All of us wept through the funerals.

It was a strange, surreal next few days. Stacey and Syrie went back to Vermont after a week and the rest of the BSC headed back home. They were great throughout this whole ordeal.

Dawn, Sharon, and my grandmother Verna stayed another week. I was relieved. I was still struggling to help my girls and was dealing with my own pain, which was still very raw.

Almost every night, I woke up with stomach pains and had to take a stomach pill. My ribs were healing and didn't hurt as much.

Sometimes, Dawn or Mona would be there to hold my hand, especially after a nightmare, which came very soon. Other times, it was Sharon or Grandma.

Sometimes I'd hear one of my daughters crying and pulled myself up to comfort them. Twice that week, Alma woke up screaming from nightmares.

Once as I went down the hall, still shaking from one of my own nightmares and going to comfort my daughter after her nightmares, Grandma and I startled each other and I let out a scared scream. Grandma rushed to turn the light on. She's in her early nineties, but can still move around well.

"Oh...Grandma!" I burst into tears of relief and we hugged.

"It's all right, dearie, it's all right, love..." she whispered. After we made sure Alma was calm again and asleep, we sat by her bed awhile. I was shaking.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" I whispered, looking into my grandmother's dark eyes.

She'd been through the pain of...widowhood, although not through a plane crash. Grandpa Bill had died way back when I was thirteen of natural causes back when they were in their late sixties. Grandma was quiet a minute.

"I...you'll never stop missing Owen," she whispered, stroking my hair. "And it'll take a long time for the hurt to fade...but you will get through this and feel joy again...and so will your girls."

She makes sense. On top of that, she'd lost not only her husband, but a daughter...my natural mom when I was a baby.

Alma is named after her. I thought back to how Grandma had always told me that I was a lot like my mother and I can tell by pictures that I look a lot like her...and looking down at my daughter, Alma, I can see she resembles her maternal grandmother too. Tamara's middle name is Verna after Grandma.

Oh, Mom, if you could see your granddaughters! I thought as Grandma and I headed back to bed. This time we left a nightlight on in the hall. Shaking, I left my door slightly ajar.

* * *

**Stacey:**

I woke up sweating without knowing why. Then I remembered fragments of a nightmare.

Someone whispered over me and I realized it was Mom, stroking me. I woke up into the real nightmare...my son Larry is dead.

I started to cry as Mom held me. She's been great throughout all this. I just hope I can be strong for Syrie, who's lost her brother.

I stared out the window into the late winter night and wondered how Mom got through her divorce. My parents had split up when I was twelve.

"Am I ever going to feel the same again..." I asked in a barely audible voice.

Mom stroked my honey-colored hair a minute and looked down at me.

"Things probably won't be exactly the way it was...and you'll feel sadness for a long time...but in time you and Syrie will find joy again. It'll take some time and you both have a lot of feelings to work through, but you're going to go on living...you'll see in time."

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

_Flames shot up around me and the screaming was deafening_. _I frantically searched for a door, but couldn't find one. I struggled to carry Owen, but he was getting heavier and heavier_. _The plane was filling up with smoke and passengers were screaming and panicked and running around, bumping into me and each other, trying to escape_. _A sense of dread and hopelessness was suffocating me and I collapsed to the floor_. _I struggled to stand, but was unable to_. _I started to cough_...

...and woke up coughing. I was home in my own bedroom. I tried taking a breath, but was gripped by another coughing spell and for a minute, thought I was wheezing. Something seemed to be choking me. That scared me and I sat up and pulled myself out of bed, but fell back. I sounded so awful I became more frightened.

I finally managed to take a deep gasp of air. My heart was pounding wildly; I was shaking violently, but finally was able to control my coughing.

Back here. I was here at home in New York. But not Owen.

I was still feeling the cold fear and it seeped through me as I turned on a lamp. The lamp threw a yellowish glow around the room. Yellowish glow...the awful yellow haze just before the plane went black...a fresh wave of fear gripped me and I shot out of bed and turned on the desk lamp. That drowned out the scary yellow cast to the room.

I brought it over to my beside table and turned off the bedside lamp, making a mental note to put it away for a while. I had the feeling I'd be wary of yellow-shaded lamps for a long time.

Tears rolled down my face and into my hair as I stared at the ceiling. I put on my glasses and read for a while. Some parts of the book were supposed to be funny, but I couldn't laugh. I wondered if I'd ever remember what it was like to laugh again.

The nightmares were coming more often now, almost every night. Sometimes it would be being trapped on a burning plane; other times it would be me seeing the plane at a distance on fire and falling apart and hearing the awful screams of panicked passengers.

Several times, I'd awakened screaming and either Dawn, Sharon, and Grandma would come in to see if I was all right. I felt a bit foolish waking them up with my screaming, but they reassured me that they were here for me and my girls.

During the day, I stayed close to my girls, just wanting to I guess make sure I was still here for them. Tam and Alma stayed close to each other as well.

Stacey and I talked every few days and I could tell it was tough going for her too. I was glad her mom was staying there for a couple of weeks too. But after two weeks, we'd both be heading back to work and our kids would be back in school.

Sympathy cards poured in for both of us. One touching card was from all of the classes I taught and another was from my fellow teachers and the principal, Alexa Zerra. Alexa had been planning a small luncheon for Owen and me when we got back from the teachers' conference, but with this loss, there wasn't really any reason to celebrate.

It had made me feel so bad that food had been ordered already and it had to be canceled. But there was no way, I could face anything like that. Alexa had been understanding and she'd called a few times to see how my family and I were holding up.

* * *

**Tamara:**

I was relieved that Aunt Dawn, Grandma Sharon, and Nana Verna stayed for two weeks after Dad was buried. Mom, courageous as she is, still needed help emotionally.

I was struggling to help Alma, who, like Mom, was having trouble holding food down. I myself felt emotionally battered from thrashing around inside between numbness and searing agony.

A few nights before they left, Aunt Sharon and her kids ordered rotisserie chicken, one of our favorite foods.

"Oh, Dawn...Ben...Sierra...thanks," Mom sounded hoarse from another long crying spell.

We ate quietly. Aunt Dawn and Grandma Sharon are vegetarians, so they had salads.

Alma was able to eat a few bites. I ate without really tasting the food.

Mom ate, but I could see that she had trouble swallowing. I can also see that her face is still strangely swollen. I have the feeling Mom has been having nightmares. It must have been so terrifying for her to be in that plane knowing that it was going to crash.

* * *

**Stacey:**

It was so good to have Mom here to help my daughter and me through those first awful two weeks. After Mom checked for the millionth time that I'd be all right, we hugged.

It was almost a relief that I'd be headed back to work Monday again and that Syrie was looking forward to going back to school. I'd talked with Mary Anne last night and she too was almost ready to go back to work. We wished each other good luck before we'd hung up.

I was glad that even though I was in pain, I'd been able to be there for Mary Anne. It must be so awful for her to be widowed. And to have gone through something so traumatic as a plane crash.

"Honey, if you need me," Mom gave me one last hug before getting into her car. "I'm just a phone call or an e-mail away. Just for anything...if you feel pressure building or need more help..."

"Thanks, Mom," I gave her a kiss. "Thanks for being here for me and Syrie."

We hugged one last time before Mom drove off. Syrie and I slowly waved, then headed inside. The house still felt very vacant without Larry and Jon. Our hearts were heavy. I'd need to be strong in the next few months, especially for Syrie

"Mom..." Syrie said softly.

"Yes, honey..."

"I think it's good we're going back to school and work next week."

"You know what?" I put my arms around her and kissed her on her head. "Me too."

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

On Sunday night, Stacey and I wished each other good luck over the phone...then on Monday, my kids went back to school and I went back to work.

At first, it was scary and surreal. I felt people looking at me as I walked down the hallway to my classroom. I was early, so I arrived before my homeroom students did.

It was a little eerie, the silence. Back in the lounge, a few of my co-workers had hugged me and extended condolences. Now here I was back on the job.

I walked around, needing to make sure this was real. That I was still alive. I was widowed, but alive.

Even the early March sky outdoors didn't seem real for a minute. I saw a few buds and that brought tears to my eyes, knowing that Owen would never see another season change. They spilled down my face as I sat.

The bell rang and I hastily took off my glasses and wiped my eyes just as my students started coming in. Most of them sat, but a few of them peered at me in concern.

Once homeroom started, I thanked them for their thoughtful card, then added that it was all right to mention my late husband, that if I cried, it was be perfectly natural.

Most of the students relaxed and I was relieved. I didn't want them feeling like they had to walk on eggshells around me. Hurdle one down, I thought once homeroom ended and I got ready for my first-period students.

* * *

I picked up Tam and Alma after work from the after-school care that evening. All three of us were mostly quiet on the way home after I'd asked how they'd survived their day. The quiet of the car surrounded us in the early March dusk.

It was still cold, but held a faint glimmer of spring. We got home and I flipped the light on and checked my phone for messages. Dawn and Sharon had left messages.

The house still felt so strange without Owen. I think even our cat, Sunset, sensed it as she wandered in and rubbed against our legs.

"It still feels odd without Dad," Tam whispered.

"I know," I told her. The three of us stood in the living room a minute, our eyes bright with brimming tears. Finally, I took a breath as some of my tears spilled over. "Girls, it's been a long day. Why don't we ditch cooking anything and order out tonight?"

"Yeahhh," "Alll riiight," were their responses.

We decided on a pizza, then once it arrived, we sat around the kitchen table and had our dinner. I knew that there would be a gaping hole in our lives for a long time without Owen. But I was glad we were coming back into our routine lives.

My students were understandably still a little cautious around me, but I reassured them I'd be all right, that if I cried, it would be normal and natural. I looked at my girls and thought of my "other" kids...my students and suddenly being back at work felt a lot better.

"Mom..." Alma told me. "I...miss Daddy, but I'm glad to be back at school again and glad you're back at work again."

"So am I," Tamara added, licking the cheese off her third piece.

"You know what?" I managed a weak smile my first one in two weeks. "So am I. My students and you girls have been great through this awful time."

We stood up and hugged. I knew we'd feel sad about Owen for a long time and we each had a lot more crying to do, but being back at work and school and our normal daily routine felt a hell of a lot better!

I felt calmer knowing that I could be the anchor for my kids and that always they could look up to me to help them grow stronger. It would be a struggle at times, but I'd finish raising them as a single mom.


	5. Late March 2023

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**5: Late March 2023**

**Mary Anne:**

"...so remember, class, pages one ninety and one ninety one," I told my sixth period history class right as the bell rang. The kids shot up and out the door, jabbering.

"How're you feeling, Ms. Spiser?" someone asked. I looked up and saw Lynn Wenthaus lingering by my desk.

"I'm..." should I tell her just _better_ or..."I'm surviving," I told her with a weak smile. "Some days are better than others. Thank you for asking."

"Hang in there," she touched my hand lightly before she left.

I erased the notes I'd written on the board and got ready for my seventh period class. It's true. Some days have been better than others.

Yes, it was good that my girls and I were back into our routine, but we still had a lot to contend with. Alma was still having nightmares and the truth was so was I. And lately, my nightmares seemed to be getting worse.

Some of my appetite had returned, but I still had to take stomach pills to make the food stay down. My ribs are almost healed and in two weeks, I'm going to the doctor to have the bandages removed. The puffiness in my face has mostly shrunk now.

Stacey and I e-mail at least twice a week and call each other about every two weeks. For Syrie and her, it's the same; some days have been better than others.

One more class and it would be the end of the day. The house still felt very odd without Owen and I knew Tam and Alma felt the same way. Home. Just the thought made my stomach tighten painfully.

Fortunately, my next class came pouring in just then, so I could just concentrate on the class and put home and the pain out of my mind for a while. As I went on with the class, bit by bit, putting notes on the board and discussing World War I with my students, I wondered if any of them could truly understand what it was like to be in a plane crash.

I knew a few of them would understand my daughters' loss of their dad, since a few had fathers who'd died. The thought reminded me of Abby, who'd also e-mailed me on a regular basis. She'd also called a few times and once I let her talk to Tam and Alma, since Abby and Anna had lost their dad in a car accident when they were Tamara's age. For that I was grateful. I didn't want my girls to feel alone.

I also thought of Mona, who's been a wonder. She stops by often on the weekends to give me and my girls emotional support. She too lost her dad at a young age like Abby. In her case, her dad had died of cancer.

Sometimes, I get really scared. For the girls. For me.

Right now, I felt as if I'd kind of split into two parts, one who was teaching the class as if nothing awful had happened and a deep inside shadowed part that was still spastic with pain and boiling with an aching, chilling sadness. And often, part of me just numbed over my feelings like a wax covering just to get me through the days.

Once my last class was over and my students flew out the door to go home, I sat at my desk and mechanically took out my grading book and began entering grades from the tests that I'd corrected last night. There it was again, that dull, kind of empty feeling, as if my insides had been scrubbed out. I felt like an android when this happened. It usually wore off by night.

The nights were often scary. One of us would either have a nightmare or one of us would be crying and crying. I'd had so many nights like that where pain would just grab me and squeeze my heart and the tears would gush out and I'd cry and cry so hard until my body hurt and I'd be shaking. It was agony! I knew my girls sometimes felt it too and it shattered my heart all over to see them going through that kind of searing pain.

* * *

"Mom..." Tam called from the kitchen once I got home and the baby-sitter had left. "I started dinner...macaroni and cheese all right with you?"

"Yes, thank you, darling," I hung up my jacket and went into the kitchen. I held out my arms and gave both of my girls a hug. "You know I love you both so much."

We stood like that a minute, then Alma sniffled. As we pulled apart, I handed a crying Alma a tissue.

Tam and I set the kitchen table and Alma blew her nose, then pulled milk and apple juice out of the fridge just as the microwave pinged. It sounded oddly far away and I realized I was feeling very numb now.

I took the bowl out, barely feeling the heat and put it on the table. As we sat, I noticed one side of my forefinger was a bit red and tingly and I realized that I must have burned my finger and not realized it. I absently rubbed it with a napkin as we started eating. I remembered that I usually use a potholder to take stuff out of the microwave.

I started to eat, hardly tasting the meal. Tam told me about some things that went on at school that day and I suspected she was feeling a bit numbed out too.

Alma's sadness was out, so she cried on and off as we ate. Several times, Tam or I held her hand or stroked her back. But even though she was crying, she did better than Tam or me when it came to eating. She actually finished her plate.

I got thirdway through before my stomach went tight and I couldn't eat any more. I got up and took a stomach pill, but even with that I couldn't get any more food down. Tam managed to eat half of her meal before she had to stop.

"Mom, what wrong with me?" Tam whispered when we were having tea. Her brown eyes were wide and dark with fear. "I...have days where I c-can't feel anything but a void inside. I sometimes feel like conditioned android and the rest of the world feels unreal."

"I know, Tam," I held her hand. "Nothing's wrong with you. I sometimes feel the same way myself. I just burned my finger taking dinner out of the microwave and hardly felt anything."

Alma was peering at us, her dark eyes filling with fresh tears. We all held hands for a long time.

"We're all having a lot of strange feelings, but we'll make it through this, girls. It won't be the same, but we're going to make it through this awful time. I promise."

As I looked at my dear, dear daughters, I knew I would do everything in my power to keep that promise. My daughters were two of the most precious things in the world to me. I was frightened, numb, sad, and hurt by recent events, but for my daughters' sakes, I would push myself to be strong and go on so they could too.

* * *

**Stacey:**

"Stacey?" Lini's light voice wafted into my office. It was the end of another workday. I'd finished up my work for the day and was just sitting at my computer, thoughts and feelings whirling through my mind. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm not sure," I whispered.

It was good to be back at work, but Syrie and I were still dealing with a lot of pain. I was glad I had this private office, because sometimes tears came unexpectedly and I'd be able to lock the door and cry in private.

My friends and co-workers have been great. Mary Anne and I have been e-mailing each other, giving moral support. Kristy had also been a big help, since she'd been through a divorce.

But none of them had ever lost a kid, so I didn't think they _truly_ understood about Larry's death. Syrie is beginning to understand that her brother is gone forever. We've had many nights where we'd cried ourselves to sleep together. The house felt so empty without Larry and Jon!

"I know it's been hard," Lini said softly. _Does she?_ I thought as I closed down my computer. "Got ahead on solitaire..." she told me.

"H-mm..." I managed a weak smile. Lini's nuts about solitaire. "I never was a whiz at that."

"Yeah...just numbers," Lini smiled softly. "Like in the old days, when they used the term _math nerd_."

To my surprise and horror, tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my face before I could stop them. "Oh, Stace, I'm so sorry!" She grabbed some tissues. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay..." I managed to get out before I buried my face into my tissue and wept some. It happens a lot still. Someone could make a joke or some loud noise could startle me and I'd start crying unexpectedly.

"Bad?" Lini put a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, blowing my nose.

"Syrie knows her brother's gone for good..." I cried some more and had to get more tissues.

Pain blew through me like a storm. I knew Mary Anne and her daughters had a different kind of loss, but she was in pain just the same. I could hear it in her voice when I talked to her on the phone. She'd told me that she was having nightmares and crying spells, especially at night.

Once my tears slowed, Lini and I got ready to head home. The house feels really strange since Larry died. I picked up Syrie from the day care and we hugged for a long time, then headed home. We stood close for a long minute before heading into the kitchen to make dinner. As we made a salad, the phone rang. It was Kristy.

"How's it going?" she asked. "How're you feeling?"

"Some days are better than others," I told her.

We talked awhile. Kristy has five kids, two of whom are teenagers and one who is in middle school. Kristy and Claudia are neighbors in Two Skies, Minnesota and both have businesses.

I felt somewhat better after we hung up and Syrie and I sat down to eat. I noticed Syrie looking up at me with huge concerned eyes and put a hand on hers.

"We're going to get through this, love," I whispered and stroked her hair. "Yes, I still feel sad and cry sometimes, just like you do. It's normal and we'll both pull through. I promise." And I'd keep that promise and continue to be strong for my daughter.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

The emotional pressure was still often there. I went to work and taught with a surface calm, but came home and mechanically graded papers, had dinner with my daughters, and read, sometimes reading to Alma before her bedtime.

But once I was in bed in my own room, the tears would come really hard. I'd often cry myself to sleep and with increasing intensity, the nightmares would come. Occasionally, I'd have several in one night. Often, it was the same earlier ones with new original ones added.

Sometimes I'd be on a high mountain with pieces of the plane around me and I'd hear screaming and I'd hunt around for people to drag out of the wreckage, but by the time I'd reach them they'd die. Other times it was being on the plane about to crash with that horrifying yellow glow and I'd cry for Owen, for anyone, for someone to help us, but everyone around me would be slumped over, dead. I'd scream and scream until I woke up, shaking violently.

Sometimes I'd cry again. Other times, I'd just lie there, shaking convulsively and flip on the lamp. I still was avoiding the yellow bedside lamp. Yellowish light made me so afraid! A lot of things made me so scared and my fears didn't seem to be going away.

"Mary Anne, I hate to break this to you but you look like hell and I'm worried," Maxine Netmouth told me in the teachers' lounge one lunch hour in late March.

"I know," I told her, feeling the numb void inside of me now.

"Are you getting help for you?" Maxine asked, bringing her coffee over to the couch where I was lying with a book. "Are you eating?"

I nodded dully. "I have friends who're helping me through this," I told her.

I took a sip of my tea and as I sipped, I felt an unexpected rush of fear and my hands started to shake. Maxine put an arm around me. I still couldn't stop shaking as I put the cup down and leaned into her. I know I don't look that great. I often wake up with dark circles under my eyes and my hair and eyes are often dull.

"And I'm trying to eat...oh, Maxine, I'm so worried about my girls," I admitted.

"How are you sleeping at night?" she asked.

"Not that well," I confessed. "The nightmares won't go away. They've been getting worse lately and I'm scared."

I closed my eyes and just let her stroke me. My girls had seen the grief counselor at school, who was helping them and I myself was seriously thinking of seeing a psychologist myself. If my nights didn't get better by the end of this month, I'd see one.


	6. April 2023

Well, the usual drill with the disclaimers on the characters and that Mona is Betsy Haynes' character, not this authors. So, here's more...

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**6: April 2023**

**Stacey:**

I threw the pillowcase of dirty clothes down the chute. Spring break had finally arrived. Mary Anne, along with Tam and Alma, were spending the spring break with us. They were on their way and judging by the time, due any minute.

"Do you think Mary Anne and her girls are feeling better?" Syrie asked.

"I think..." I thought a minute. "They're like us...some days are better for them than others."

It was certainly true of us. Bit by bit, we were picking up the pieces of our lives and putting it back together, but it was a slow process. Some nights I woke up, feeling a strange, dizzying sensation come over me. The house still sometimes felt strange, but bit by bit, we were going on with our daily routines.

"Are things going to ever feel good again?" Syrie asked, leaning on me. I often wondered that myself.

"I think they eventually will, sweetheart," I reassured her. "It just takes time. We both still have a lot of feelings to work out and I'm sure Mary Anne and her girls do too."

Syrie peered up at me, then nodded slowly. Oh, she was so trusting. I'd heard that before, that things do get better after a mourning period, but sometimes the mourning seemed to last forever and the tangle of feelings seemed to be an endless mass of crossed wires and scrambled computer programs to unravel.

I heard a car door close and knew Mary Anne had arrived.

"Here she is..." Syrie told me and we headed outside.

"Oh...Stacey...Syrie!" Mary Anne reached out to hug me and her mouth drooped as she burst into tears.

That got me started and we cried in each others' arms as we hugged. Oh, it was so good to hug one of my dearest friends, to feel her warmth radiating through me. Our girls also hugged and as we went into the house, Mary Anne looked at me, concern smoldering in her deep brown eyes, even though they were still full of tears and I could see that she was still in a lot of pain from her own ordeal.

Once we got inside, the still-remaining tears spilled down Mary Anne's face and I grabbed some tissues for her. She cried some more into her tissue, then we headed into the kitchen, where I had tea.

"It's so good to see you," Mary Anne's quivered. The girls slowly sat with us and I poured them some fruit punch. "Just seeing you make me feel more alive than I have in a long time."

"Alive..?" I asked.

"Some days, Stace, I feel a deep void inside of me," Mary Anne continued. "And my nightmares still haven't gotten better. "I'm scared, I'm so scared..."

I could see that she was going through a lot. She had circles under her eyes and her eyes seemed so troubled.

"I go through days where I'm like a robot, but can't stop crying at night, especially after a nightmare. I'm glad my girls and I are able to go through the day to day stuff." She looked over at her daughters, her thick brows slanting in worry, small worry lines showing through her bangs.

"Oh, Mary Anne, I'm so sorry..." I stroked her hand. "You'll make it through. You're one of the strongest people I know." Tamara's eyes welled up also and she reached over and hugged her mother.

"My girls have been great," Mary Anne whispered, stroking Alma too. "Stace...how've you been holding up this week?" We'd kept in touch every few days by e-mail. "You've gone through some rocky times lately too." She could tell. I have been at times.

"With me, it's memory lapses," I said. "And like you, I have crying spells. The other day at work, somebody made a joke, but it made me cry."

"Oh, God..." Mary Anne's brows slanted again. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, we've gone though our down times...it'll get better, Mary Anne," I held her soft hand. "It will, believe me." Mary Anne clutched my hand and seemed to be trying to believe it."

"What really hurts the most is seeing my girls in so much pain," Mary Anne took another sip of tea.

We continued talking long after our girls went upstairs to play a game. "Alma's had a few nightmares too and Tam's been feeling that numb void sometimes too," Mary Anne told me.

"It's similar with my daughter...both of us feel so strange as if we were in a clone of our house, but not really our house. It'll get better. Don't forget all the rocky times we've survived in the past."

"Yeah. Not only us, but our friends," Mary Anne nodded. We both looked at each other, thinking of Mona and Abby, two of our BSC friends who'd suffered losses early in life.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

It was good seeing Stacey again, I reflected as I got into bed that night. I'd made sure my girls were comfortable, then settled into my own bed with a book before drifting off to sleep...

_Flames were all around me_. _I searched frantically for survivors, but only saw dead bodies_. _I screamed for somebody to help, but I was trapped on that high mountaintop, me being the only one alive_. _I ran down the hill, searching for help, but saw flames EVERYWHERE! My heart pounded and I kept running until I'd reached the bottom of the hill_. _But the whole city was on fire! Screams erupted from the flames and an awful choking sensation blocked my throat_. _Bodies lurched from the flames and I let out a strangled noise that managed to squeeze through the invisible vise on my throat_...

Finally screams erupted from me and I was in Stacey's guest bedroom. The light flashed on and Stacey came running into the room, her dark blue eyes wide in alarm. The light was yellow! I kept screaming in terror, begging Stacey to turn on the desk lamp to get rid of the awful yellow.

"Please, please, I can't stand it!" I screamed. "Please, I'm afraid of the yellow haze!" I screamed again and started to dash out of the room.

Stacey apparently understood what was making me so terrified because she turned on the desk lamp and turned off the yellow bedside lamp. I fell back onto the bed and started to cry, partly in fear, partly in pain. Stacey hugged me and we rocked back and forth for a long time.

"I'm...s-s-sorry," I sobbed. "It was the inside of the plane that looked so g-ghastly yellow before...Owen...d-died!" My voice sounded like a high squeak now.

"I know, I know..." Stacey started to cry too and we sobbed.

I really don't know how long we cried, really. Maybe it was a couple of hours. I slowly felt a bit calmer, more rational.

"I'm...sorry I scared you," I shakily wiped my eyes.

"I understand," Stacey got out tissues for both of us. "I know the pain. Maybe not the plane crash or being widowed, but I have an idea of the loss you must be suffering."

"Hey, S-Stace...you can also t-talk to be about...your son," I told her. "I've never lost a kid, but I can imagine your pain too."

"Thanks." We sat for a minute longer, then after Stacey headed back to bed, I read a while longer. I kept the lamp on the rest of the night and made a mental note to see the counselor when we got back home.


	7. July 2023

Thanks for all the reviews! Again, the usual disclaimers on the BSC characters and on Mona and just another one...Shane Arrington is also a creation of Betsy Haynes, not the current author. So, here are the latest developments!

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**7: July 2023**

**Stacey:**

Our divorce was finalized in July. Both Jon and I were relieved. It was a good thing we weren't bitter.

Syrie was on her way to see him for the weekend. Most of the summer had flown by and slowly we all were getting on with our lives.

Mary Anne had e-mailed and told me that the counseling was a big help to her. She still had nightmares, but they weren't as frequent as they had been in the spring. She was teaching a couple of summer courses as well.

"Have a good time..." I called as Syrie got in her dad's car.

"Bye, Mom," she called. I leaned over and gave her a kiss.

"Hi..." Jon looked back.

"Hello. How've you been?"

"Better. How're you holding up?"

"Better."

"I should have Syrie back by six on Sunday," Jon told me.

"Sure," I nodded. "Hey...both of you look out for each other this weekend, all right?"

"We will," Syrie said and Jon grinned.

It brought back a time when Jon and I had made a good married couple while we lasted, but now that time was over. Maybe Jon and I would wind up as friends, I thought as Jon drove off and I headed back inside.

Some divorced couples do succeed at that and it's supposed to be so much better for the kids. It's never good when divorced couples continue warring and being bitter.

I sat down and checked my e-mail. There was an ee from Kristy. She asked how Syrie and I were and then told me that KAT furniture and lefty appliances opened up another branch in Colorado, so she was there for two weeks and had just gotten back yesterday. She's turned it into a sort of vacation with her five kids. I smiled.

She also told me about meeting someone again whom she'd known in college, a Shane Arrington. Shane. Yes, I vaguely remembered Kristy had dated him for a few years at Fellowdean. He'd gone to the same middle school as Mona Vaughn.

He'd met her again in New York City since Mona and Mary Anne were at college in the Big Apple also at nearby Staten U. After Kristy and Shane had graduated, Shane had gotten a job offer overseas and had moved.

The relationship had naturally lapsed and they'd lost touch. Kristy told me that he is now a veterinarian and is divorced with twelve-year-old twin daughters. He shares custody of them with his ex-wife and both of them live in Two Skies Minnesota now. Wow. I'd met Shane once.

I wondered if he and Kristy would get serious again. Maybe we'd all see him when we went over there at Thanksgiving. It was a plan we'd made last Christmas, that all of us BSC would fly out to Kristy's for a huge Thanksgiving bash.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

I leafed through the e-mails including the one from Kristy saying that she was seeing Shane again. Wow. I remembered when Kristy dated Shane way back in college. He'd been nice. I wondered if things would get serious between them again.

"Mom...do you still want to go out to the Cheesecake Factory?" Tam poked her head in.

"Oh...sure, honey," I looked up. "Just let me close the computer down and we'll be on our way."

It was Friday night and we were headed out to eat. My summer teaching session was almost over and I'd be taking August off. We'd also be going down to New Jersey to see Abby for a week in mid-August and spend it at the beach.

This summer actually hasn't been too hot; it's been mostly pleasant, I reflected as I made sure the girls were buckled in, got into our cornflower blue BMW and drove toward the Cheesecake Factory.

I feel very lucky that we live so near downtown New York City; there are so many places to eat. I suspect there are at least a dozen in the city I haven't tried yet.

I was pleasantly surprised to feel a sense of normalcy, like things were getting in place again. The counseling helped both my girls and me. Slowly, I was gaining a measure of control over the anxiety. I still was reluctant to take out my yellowish lamp again, but I told myself that soon I would. I'd face down the fear like I'd always tried to do.

Fear has been a part of my life since infancy. I'll face down these fears again and again if I had to.

By the time we'd reached the parking lot, my family and I were chatting up a storm. My family. There was still a huge gap without Owen, but as we entered the restaurant, I felt us pulling together and moving on, bit by bit.

Sure, we still had some crying left to do and each of us had a lot of feelings to work out, but I felt we were getting stronger. Stacey and Syrie sounded stronger too whenever I talked to them on the phone.

I'm so glad Stacey and Jon aren't bitter. I knew Stacey would always miss her son, but she is moving on and is continuing to raise her surviving daughter as well as she has.

As we ate, I also realized that neither the girls or I have had much trouble eating lately. I didn't need the stomach pills much anymore.

* * *

**Tamara:**

It felt good to curl up on the couch with my mom and sister and watch a good video after we ate at the Cheesecake Factory. We were getting out more again now and it felt better.

We still sometimes felt sad over Dad, but I think we're getting better. Mom seems to be getting her feelings aired out more and doesn't have as many nightmares as she used to. Alma was also sleeping peacefully through the night.

I still had the bouts of numbness and I suspect Mom did too, but now that we'd talked it out with Dr. Behres, those odd-seeming feelings weren't as frightening.

We made caramel popcorn, got out sodas, then watched the movie, _Peanut Gallery_ which was part comedy, part-psychology, managing to genuinely smile through the funny parts.

Of course, it was hard for any of us to laugh, but we'd made progress toward being able to smile and enjoy a peaceful evening. It was enough for now. We still sat in contented silence after the movie ended and Mom put the tape on rewind.

It was around eleven-thirty and the late news was on. At first, it was the usual stuff about the stock market and all. I smiled as I remembered Mom telling us that it was Stacey who taught her and the rest of her friends from the original BSC how to invest their money wisely.

After a commercial break, there was a story on the huge hurricane that had hit Virginia and the Carolinas hard this week. As the cameras rolled over the devastation wreaked in those areas, my heart contracted just feeling sorry for those people who'd lost homes and possessions.

Front Royal, Virginia was especially devastated. The camera zoomed in on a wrecked desk, then a ruined boombox. The sight just brought tears to my eyes.

"Oh, girls, isn't this so s-sad," I heard Mom whimper. Looking over, I saw her brows slant as her eyes filled with tears. I reached over and grabbed her hand.

"M-my heart...just hurts for those poor people," Mom wept as she grabbed some tissues. Tears ran down both of our faces. I then heard Alma start to cry too and reached out for her hand.

"They m-must be so s-sad..." I sobbed.

I stroked my sister, who I suspect was trying to stem her tears. "Alma, go ahead and cry too if you feel sorry...it's...it's as sad as when Dad died..." I wept.

I don't know how long we sat and cried, but it felt good getting it all out.

The video plocked to a stop in its task of rewinding, but we sat for a while and kept crying. It hurt, but felt oddly relieving.

I gulped hard as I wiped my eyes and I could see by the way Mom was catching her breath in deep sobs that she was releasing a huge vat of emotions also. I suspect Mom has even more to get out than us since she had been through the trauma of the actual crash.

It was partly our pain over missing Dad so much and it was partly our sorrow over the suffering we imagined the people in Hurricane Elmo's path were going through.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

It really did feel much better for all of us to cry this pain out together, I realized as we got ready for bed a little later that night.

It certainly was better than earlier back in the spring when I'd gone through the day dully with that dreadful mechanical feeling, then crying alone at night and suffering the horrible nightmares.

I suspect the girls felt the same way too. Tam and Alma slept in Tam's room that night as they'd done on and off since Owen's death.

"Goodnight, darlings," I whispered, giving them each a kiss and stroking their silky dark hair.

"Gu-night, Mom," Tam murmured, already drifting off.

"Night..." Alma whispered. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thank you," I whispered, touched. "I'm glad you girls are too." I headed to bed, feeling so fortunate and blessed to have such wonderful daughters. I read a while before drifting off to sleep.


	8. September 2023

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**8: September 2023**

**Mary Anne:**

It's happened always whenever I faced down the unpleasant, the painful and lived through the worst storms of grief and loss as I imagine it happens for everyone who's experience loss...the raw edges of pain slowly fade like phantoms chased away by a light shining on it and things that seemed insurmountable become manageable.

The aching gap slowly becomes lined with memories and the survivors pull together and shift to fill the gap, lining any cracks with beautiful, sweet memories of the lost loved one, the small idiosyncrasies that made the person special and unique.

On the first morning that school started again, I lay there thinking about how Owen used to love to take old bars of soap, melt them in hot water, then mash a bunch of them in different shapes. It was a cute, corny memory that touched me and made me smile as I got up to get ready for work and help my girls get ready for school. Once again my family and I were back in full swing of work and school.

It was mid-September before I was in Ms. Zerra's office. It's hard to believe that it's been seven months since my beloved husband, Owen died in that plane crash.

Between teaching my third and fifth period ninth-grade history classes, I took some papers down to Alexa Zerra's office to be filed and to check my e-mail and snail mail. Alexa, our principal, has been great. She knows about the plane crash Owen and I were in.

"Mary Anne...how are you?" Alexa smiled up at me.

"All right..." I told her, checking my e-mail. Nothing really new.

"You seem to be getting better. You look better...the bloating is gone from your face. How are Tamara and Alma doing?"

"Better." I leaned on the cabinet. Alexa was typing an e-mail as she talked. Tamara's in fifth grade now and will be ten in November. Alma and Zara started kindergarten this year. "Alma's appetite is normal again."

"That's good to hear."

"I think your husband is in a better place," Greta, the secretary put in.

I shook my head and shrugged. I felt like telling her that just because someone dies doesn't automatically mean they're better off. How can they be either better or worse off; they're dead. And the survivors are left with pain and a broken heart. I didn't, however and just bit my lip, figuring she meant well.

I guess being dead is kind of...you can't feel pain, but you can't feel pleasure. Maybe its almost like being in a deep dreamless sleep. A bit eerie to think about.

Waving at them, I headed back to get ready for the students again. As I headed back to my classroom, I thought about Owen and how much the girls and I miss him.

There's one consolation that's come out of this ordeal...Owen and I had a happy marriage and he was a great dad. Tamara has his facial features. Alma has mine. Both girls have my dark hair and eyes. I'm so lucky to have them; they've been so good throughout this whole ordeal.

I think it was partly the counseling, but what really was a turning point for all of us was having the good cry over the newscast of Hurricane Elmo.

It's hard to believe that in another week I'll be forty. The big four-oh. My first birthday as a widow and as a single mom. I'm so glad I'm able to be there for my girls, especially since I'll be raising them alone now.

My friends have been wonderful through this, especially Stacey. She's pulling through; in the e-mail she sent me last night, she told me that the divorce was settled and she and her daughter, Syrie feel at peace again.

My mind also wandered to Mona Vaughn, then to Abby and Anna Stevenson, who helped my daughters deal with losing their dad. I smiled as I remembered the week we'd spent in New Jersey and Abby telling my girls about the trip she, Anna and their mom had taken to a remote tropical island called Sanibel a year after their dad died.

It's kind of ironic that Abby and Anna, then Mona, then Tamara had all lost their dads at the age of nine.

I sat at my desk in the classroom and organized my lesson plans for the next few days, then took out a notebook and wrote a few short poems.

* * *

**Tamara:**

After school on the twenty-first of September, I ran over to the train and rode into the central city to get a birthday present for Mom. I'd told Mom that I might be late getting home, so she knew where I was. Alma was over at Zara's for the afternoon.

I walked along the shops near Central Park, peering into various stores. Mom's birthday was tomorrow and I hoped I'd find a gift just right for her.

It was in one of the specialty stores that I saw a girl a few years older than me peering at what appeared to be small glass marblelike aquariums. I noticed the colors inside changed when she picked one of them up.

"They're beautiful..." she murmured, peering at it. I picked one up and sure enough as I moved it around, it changed. Like the leaves outside are beginning to change, I thought.

"They change like the seasons," I blurted out.

"Hey, you're right," she said softly. "My mom's birthday's in two days, so I'm gift-hunting."

"Me too," I told her. "My mom's birthday is tomorrow. My sister, my mom's friend, and I are getting her a cake and it's going to be a big one since she's turning forty."

"The big four-oh," the girl nodded. "My mom hit hers four years ago."

"Hey...did you notice?" I pointed. "These little grayish lines stay the same no matter what happens to the sand inside." For some reason, that discovery reassured me.

"Yeah...I notice," The girl peered at it.

We both ended up buying the ornaments and on the way back, I thought of how the grayish lines represented our family and our friends while the sand was like all the changes in life.

We'd been through so much, not just my family, but Stacey and her family too, but we'd weathered the bulk of the turbulence and were strong again. I looked forward to giving this gift to my mom tomorrow.


	9. November 2023

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**9: November 2023**

**Mary Anne:**

"Happy birthday, Tam," I said softly, giving my daughter a hug after I'd brought out the cake.

All of us...Alma, Mona, Zara, and I gathered around as Tam made her wish and blew out all ten candles on the cake that November 14, 2023. We all whooped, then sat down to cut and eat the cake.

I can't believe my oldest daughter is ten. And that I turned forty almost two months ago.

We all still feel that gap without Owen and I realized with a pang that this is our first year of celebrations...birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah...without Owen. It feels a little strange, but slowly, we are filling in the gaps, moving on and finding reasons to celebrate. Today, we'd all gone out to dinner at Tam's favorite restaurant in the city, then come back here to have the cake.

"Mary Anne...are you still going over to Kristy's for Thanksgiving?" Mona asked once the girls had gone upstairs to play a card game of Uno. Mona and I were lingering in the kitchen over cups of tea.

"Yes," I asked, a little surprised. "I wouldn't miss the re-union bash at Kristy's for the world."

"I thought maybe..." Mona hesitated. "If flying turns out to be too much for you, Stacey and I could stay here also."

I had thought of that and yes, the thought of flying, being on a plane made my hands shake. I had to put my cup down. Mona put a hand over mine and we sat for a long minute, listening to the cold wind blow outside.

"It'll be scary, but I'm still flying out," I said in a low, determined voice. "I've lived with fear all my life, Mona, and I learned as a teenager not to let it stop me from doing what I have to do."

"You're right," Mona said softly.

"I'm going to call Kristy this week and let her know I'm still coming," I continued.

"Tell you what..." Mona suggested. "Stace and I can sit by you on the plane and make sure it doesn't get too scary for you. We'll be by you all the way."

"Thanks," I told her, grateful for her support. I still felt a bit shaky about being on an airplane again, but with two of my closest friends and my kids along, it wouldn't be so overwhelming.

* * *

**Kristy:**

"So you're coming out here?" I confirmed over the phone the Sunday before Thanksgiving.

"Yes." Mary Anne seemed to be a bit shaky, but determined.

We talked a bit longer before we hung up. Plane crash and all, Mary Anne was still Mary Anne. I'd known her since toddlerhood when we were growing up in Stoneybrook, Connecticut and Mary Anne had always been a very shy, quiet person. She had always been afraid of so much, yet had a strong backbone that surface when she needed it.

I know flying now terrifies her. A lot of people would never set foot on a plane after what she went through last February, but Mary Anne is a person who faces her fears down and does whatever is necessary, even if she is afraid. Maybe because she has so many fears and is highly sensitive, dealing with those fears and sensitivity made her into such a strong person.

"So, Mary Anne's actually flying out here?" my oldest son, David, who's almost fifteen, asked once I hung up.

"She sure is," I told him. "Here, help me bring the salad plates in..."

"She's brave," my oldest daughter, thirteen-year-old Karen added as she pulled out silverware and followed us to the table.

"You can say that again," I nodded as I brought in the noodle casserole and my five kids and I sat and started to eat.

As we ate, I looked around, grateful that all my kids were here. Besides David and Karen, there's Michael, who's twelve and Michelle, who's ten, the same age as Tamara, and my youngest, Elizabeth, who's eight. I was looking forward to seeing all of my old friends in the BSC again.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

Once our flight was called that Wednesday morning, Stacey put a hand on one shoulder while Mona put her hand on my other shoulder. Then slowly we walked onto the plane together.

My legs felt rubbery and my heart was pounding as we sat. Tamara reached over and stroked my hand and Alma said something supportive, but it was hard hearing them over the swoosh of my pulse in my ears.

I couldn't believe I was on a _plane_ again. Everything looked surreal, bright and when the flight attendants demonstrated the use of the emergency equipment, it all seemed too real. 

Listen carefully, all of you... I sent out a mental message to our fellow passengers. _I had to use that equipment for real less than a year ago_.

I slumped back once I put my seat belt on. Once the plane started toward the runway, everything got more vivid and I had to put on my sunglasses, my hands really shaking, my heart pounding. My skin felt damp and clammy.

Mona clasped my hand and talked to me in a low soothing voice as the plane lifted off. I kept my eyes straight ahead, my terror closing around me. This is it, I thought. We were in the air and if...I fought back the crazy, frightening thoughts that started to crowd my mind.

Come on, don't panic, Mary Anne, I silently willed myself. You've done it before. It's like getting back on a horse after you're thrown off.

I managed a shaky ironic smile as tears slid down my face at the thought of horses, since it's one of the many things I've been afraid of. Good thing the flight was only four hours to Minnesota.

Occasionally, I cried quietly and sometimes I started shaking. Sometimes the shaking was more like a brief spasm wracking my body.

I didn't dare close my eyes because I knew I'd flash back to last February's plane crash. Thinking of the plane crash also reminded me of this morning when I'd gone to Owen's grave and put a vase of fall flowers there and cried. My husband's been gone almost a year now.

It was a fearful flight, but with Stacey and Mona support as well as that of my kids, I made it through and we landed safely in Minneapolis Airport early that afternoon. Fresh tears spilled down my face when several passengers clapped.

"We made it," Stacey whispered, giving me a little hug. Mona stroked my hand.

"Way to go, Mom," Tamara told me.

"Are you still scared, Mommy?" Alma asked, her big dark eyes full of worry.

"Yes, but I'm making it, sweetie," I leaned over and stroked her hand.

Once the passenger crowd had squashed their way out of the plane, we stood up, got our bags, then slowly made our way out of the aircraft. My legs and hands were still shaking wildly, but I also felt a sense of relief. I also felt a bit light-headed until I spotted Kristy.

"OVER HERE!" she bellowed, waving wildly.

"Hello!" Hiiiii!" We all booked into each others' arms and hugged.

"You're all right, Mary Anne?" Kristy asked once we got our bags and started toward her car.

"Yes...I will be," I told her. Finally, I got the courage to take my sunglasses off. "It was scary, but I survived it."

"Way to go," Kristy put an arm around me.

Outside, it was bright, cold, and windy the way some late fall and winter days seem to be with a deep blue sky and a splotch of white sun. The brightness made me squint and frown. I had to rub my eyes a minute once we got into the car and started toward Two Skies.

"...so Claudia made the pies and I'm picking up the turkey tonight," Kristy told us on the way there.

"I have the stuffing here," I told Kristy, tapping my round plastic bag. Mona and Stacey told her what they'd brought as well.

"Hey, thanks," Kristy grinned. "This is going to be quite a feast."

"Gotten any snow yet?" Stacey asked.

"Not yet, but it'll be soon," Kristy told us. "I thought it was going to come down on Monday because it really looked like a snow sky, but it didn't. It's been cold though with the nights in the low teens."

"It's been close to it in Vermont," Stacey nodded.

"It's been in the twenties at night in New York," Mona put in. It has been, even in the city.

"I hope we get snow for the holidays," Tam told us.

"Me too," Syrie put in.

* * *

**Stacey:**

I was glad all of us in the BSC and our families were able to come out to Kristy's place. It felt strange without Larry and Jon, but we managed to make the holiday a peaceful, memorable one.

It was a good thing the dining room table was long, because all of us sat around it, then would help ourselves to a buffet near the head. This year, it was a bit sad, yet special because each of us were grateful that we still had our each other, despite the terrible loss Mary Anne and I had suffered this past year.

Throughout the meal, Mary Anne and I exchanged glances of understanding and encouragement. So did our daughters. We've been through a lot, but we're surviving it and for that I'm thankful for our courage...not only Mary Anne and me, but for all of us in the BSC whenever we'd gone through rocky times.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

They are some of the most precious things ever in my life. My girls. My BSC friends. Their kids. The rest of my family.

I mostly listened to the others talk and at one point Dawn and I were talking about everyday things, we exchanged a grateful look...that we had each other as stepsisters.

Dawn and I smiled softly as we saw Alma and Dawn's daughter Sierra, flick string beans across the table in each others' plates. Zara added her rice into Sierra's plate, then Sierra's twin brother, pushed a bit of yam across toward Zara and Alma.

Across the table, Anna's daughter, Raisa and Claudia's daughter, Stacey, dropped scraps of food down to the Thomas's dog, Mountain. Abby's twin daughters, Kristen and Rachel, snickered when Mountain belched noisily.

Kristy then stood up, leaned under the table and called Mountain out from there. "Come on, Mountie...you've had enough to eat..." I guess Mountain did because she followed Kristy to the basement where she closed the door, then sat again. By then, all of us were getting full and relaxed.

"My last re-load," Tom Kishner, Claudia's husband quipped and most of us laughed.

I smiled. I was stuffed to the top as well. It was the first time in a long time I'd enjoyed a full meal and I was happy to see that my girls had too.

After we ate and cleared the table, all of us herded into the kitchen with a noisy clatter of dishes going into the dishwasher and all of us talking, bit by bit, we drifted into the living room while our kids headed to the den.

"Who wants coffee...or tea?" Kristy asked, still edging at the kitchen doorway.

We all chimed in our choices. Claudia and Tom went into the kitchen to help and in a minute, I got up and started in, but Kristy told me they had everything set, so I headed back into the living room and sat between Abby and Mona.

"You're sounding a lot better," Abby told me as the two of us sipped tea.

"Thanks," I said softly. "I think my kids and I are coming together, bit by bit."

We played a few rounds of Uno and talked for a long time, catching up on things. Abby, who's a lawyer now, told us about her latest case and Dawn expounded on her current archeology dig.

I talked some about some of the classes I was teaching this year. Kristy's newest store was off the ground and doing well. Claudia was starting a new advertising project right after Thanksgiving that would take two weeks.

"Just think, this design will grab the right audience," Claudia told us, passing around her drawings, which was for a new restaurant. It was an inviting sketch of a plate of food on a homey-looking table with an inviting window above it.

"It gives the feel of coziness," I passed the picture on to Mona.

"Good color," Mona said softly, passing it to Anna.

"How's the latest CD coming?" Dawn asked Anna, who is with a soft rock music group.

"It's coming along all right," Anna told us. "If all goes smoothly, Water and Wind should have the CD released by April."

"All right..." "Sounds good." We sat, sipping tea, coffee, and cappuccino.

"You know what is fantastic?" Jessi sat up from where she'd been seated close to her husband, Russell Wysley. "That we've stayed so close all these years."

"Yeah..." Mallory added. Jessi and Mallory are two years younger than the rest of us and we don't see them that often, but when it's a gathering like this, they come out.

"I think part of it stemmed from us having the mission to run the BSC back in middle and high school," Stacey put in.

"And in high school, dealing with that IN clique made us bond even more closely," I added.

"We sure kept our high school graduation pact," Claudia put in.

We all remembered how before we left Stoneybrook for college, we'd all met at the tower near the beach and vowed to remain friends always, no matter how far we were and what happened.

Slowly, we moved onto other topics, but we felt the familylike bonds between us and felt secure knowing that it would always be there, no matter what happened in our lives.

I smiled softly, sipping the last of my tea, remembering how when I was a little girl, I'd been an only child and wanted a sister. Well, now I feel like a have ten sisters, I thought. And we're there to pull each other through the bad times as well as enjoy the good times.


	10. December 2023

Aaaall right, readers, this is the final chapter! Wow, I made it to the end and so did Stacey and Mary Anne make it through their tough times...so here's the last chapter! And I'll be adding more to my other stories soon, so keep on the lookout!

**Edge of Darkness**

_By_: CNJ

_PG-13_

**10: December 2023**

**Tamara:**

I came home from school after practicing for our school's Hanukkah-Christmas production that's coming on next week before we let out for the holidays. I waved good-by to Rhoda and walked briskly the rest of the way home.

Mom was home early than day and she was reclined on the couch grading papers...and doing something...her hand was at her mouth. Alma was curled up beside Mom since kindergarten lets out by two. That's when I realized that they were both biting their nails!

"Mom..." I walked over to her and took her hand out of her mouth. "Didn't you outgrow that in high school?"

"Oh..." Mom blushed and sat on her hand. "I thought so. I still bit them in college sometimes."

She gently extracted Alma's hand from her mouth. Alma's face was puckered into a nervous frown.

"Are you sad today, Mommy?" Alma asked.

I sat beside Mom and noticed that my mother's dark thick brows were tightened into a worried and yes, slightly sad frown that etched two small vertical lines between her brows.

"A little..." she admitted. "This holiday is going to be strange without your father." I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I'm very lucky to have you girls. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You've been wonderful with us," I told her, giving her and Alma a hug. "You're one of the strongest women I know."

Mom gave a rueful smile. "Yes, the women in our family hang tough."

We were quiet a minute, then Mom spoke again. "What do you kids want to do to start the holiday season? Aunt Dawn and her kids are coming in another week and a half...so are Stacey and Syrie. And a few days after your great-grandmother. Your father would have still wanted us to celebrate, even though it won't feel the same..."

"Let's do something a little different this year," I suggested. "Like...go into the city this weekend and see the big tree and menorah at the Rockefellar Center!"

"Good suggestion." Mom nodded and even Alma's face lit up. "You know, Hanukkah starts this Saturday."

"We can have those menorah candles," Alma put in. "And we can light them starting Saturday."

"Good idea." Mom smiled. Even though we don't practice any religion today, some of our ancestors had been Jewish, so some years, we did have a menorah.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

We took up Tam's suggestion and went into the city that Friday afternoon. We stood outside the rink at the Rockefellar Center as it grew dark. It seemed like half the world was there. New York City is a wonder to behold during the holiday season.

"I wish we'd brought our skates," Alma told us.

"Me too," I nodded. It was clear, blustery, and very cold, perfect for ice-skating. "Maybe we could come back here when the others come over the vacation and bring our skates." Just then, the huge tree was lit, then the menorah and everyone sighed with a "Woooogh..."

"Happy holidays," I whispered, hugging my family close. No, things wouldn't be the same without Owen, but we'd still be a family...always.

* * *

**Stacey:**

Syrie and I noticed how flat our artificial tree seemed. We'd been putting up decorations, even though we were going to spend the actual Christmas day at Mary Anne's place in New York. The holidays would always have a void without my son, Larry, but Syrie and I had grown closer since his death.

"Think we'll ever be the same?" Syrie asked.

"No..." I shook my head and put an arm around her.

"Let's do something different this year," Syrie suggested. "Like...go out and get a real tree."

"That's an idea," I nodded. "We won't be the same. Our family's changed, but we'll celebrate this year in a different way. Don't forget we're also going over to Mary Anne's for Christmas. Come on, let's look for the tree..." We grabbed our jackets and went.

* * *

**Mary Anne:**

"YEEAAAH!" We all whooped as we cheered the Blasters on at the women's hockey tournament. They came closer...then won by two points! All of us went nuts, jumping around and backslapping. I'm not into sports, but Alma is and it's great to see her laughing again.

"Gut vin!" Greta crowed in her thick German accent.

She and Wyser kissed. It's funny, but half of the crowd was so eager to leave afterward that they stuffed themselves through the exit. We sat on the bleachers and talked.

Tamara had been great at her holiday performance earlier in the week and was still glowing from that. School had just let out for winter vacation and Stacey and Syrie had arrived just a few hours ago. Dawn and her twins were coming the day after tomorrow.

"It's been so long since I just let loose like this," Stacey sighed. Syrie was nodding off in her lap.

"Me too." I stroked Syrie's hair, which is the same honey color as her mother's. "It's so good that my girls are getting on with their lives." I felt a slight catch in my throat. "I'll always miss Owen. If only he could have been there for Tam's play this week." Just then, we heard plucking down below and saw some of the players goofing around with a puck.

"Gogogo...GO!" Mona, Alma, and Greta screamed.

Someone scored and they whooped, "YEEEAH!" By then the stands were just about empty, so we headed out and on the way home, stopped for pizza.

By the time we got home, it was ten. Alma had fallen asleep in my arms and Syrie was asleep in Stacey's.

Zara, Tamara, and Vitra were still awake and felt like playing dominoes. So they played on the living room floor while us adults headed to the kitchen and had tea and Greta had a beer.

I was feeling lighter than I had in a long time. It was good to see that Stacey and our kids seemed to be feeling better these days too. I realized that I was laughing along with the others at the jokes. I hadn't laughed in so long...I think since the plane crash. When you lose someone you love during the year, the holidays don't feel the same...but you can still enjoy them and make the most of time with family and friends.

"Good night, Owen..." I whispered later that night around one in the morning when the kids had fallen asleep and I was getting ready for bed. "Thanks...for the kids and for being there while you were alive."

I was lucky to have had such a dear husband, I thought as I gave his picture a kiss, then got into bed. I saw a light snow starting to fall outside as I drifted off into sleep.

_Storyline Copyright 2001_ by **CNJ**


End file.
